Free Depth of Despair by Bill Kitson Page A

Netherdale station. I want a word with this young lady.’
    He noticed the surprise in Mironova’s face. ‘Think about it, Clara. We’ve two unidentified skeletons at Lamentation Tarn, supposedly of Eastern European origin. A Russian teddy bear. A trio of dead men, whose appearance suggests Slav or Baltic origins, and now a Russian child shoplifter. Unless we’ve been twinned with Vladivostok, there’s got to be a connection.’
    As they drove towards Cauldmoor, Pearce told him what little he’d discovered about the tenants. ‘The neighbours know next to nothing. They’ve only seen men coming and going. Reckon there are about five or six living there. Foreigners, asylum seekers they think. That’s all they know, or are prepared to say. They’re no trouble, keep to themselves, don’t make any noise. Nobody knows what they do for a living but they come and go at odd hours. That contrasts with the council’s information. The Housing Department told me the house had been let to an elderly couple from Slovenia. Rent’s paid promptly in cash and they’ve had no complaints.’
    As Nash and Pearce walked down Misery Near they could see the diving team had already met with success. A green tarpaulin sheet had been spread on the ground close to the bothy. On it were two smaller sheets. Saunders met them by the lake, his face grim confirmation of what they’d already guessed. ‘Your hunch was right. We’ve recovered two already and they’ve just located a third. They’re in no better condition than the two you’ve already got.’
    ‘I’m going to have to get back. Pearce will stay with you whilst I raise Ramirez and get some uniforms here.’
    Once Nash had driven beyond Bishop’s Cross he pulled over to phone. ‘When you’ve finished at the house, can you get out to Lamentation Tarn?’
    Mexican Pete sighed, ‘You’re becoming a one-man cottage industry. Even Burke and Hare in their prime didn’t manage six corpses in one day.’
     
    When Nash returned to Netherdale they entered the interview room. He sat down opposite the girl and studied her. He absorbed a dreadful sense of suffering, a desolation of the soul this girl exuded. He almost wept, so strong was the despair in her aura.
    Eventually she looked up. Nash smiled and leaned forward, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Say to Milla,’ he instructed Mironova without taking his gaze from the girl, ‘that I understand everything, that I don’t blame her for what she did. Tell her I can only guess at what she must have suffered at the hands of those filthy beasts. Nobody will want to see her punished because she killed them. They deserved to die and if killing them was the only way she couldescape, I think she did the right thing. Tell her I am ashamed, as a man, for what she had to endure.’
    Mironova began translating. At the first words Milla’s eyes widened. All the time Nash held her gaze with his. She began to cry. Her heartbroken, racking sobs were a torment for the detectives.
    Nash added, ‘Tell Milla we’ll help her. Tell her she’ll be safe. We’ll protect her. Tell her the ordeal is over.’
    Slowly and painfully Milla’s tale was told. The horror of it almost overwhelmed her audience. She wouldn’t reveal her full name or where she came from. Was this guilt or shame? ‘A village in Moldavia,’ was all Milla would say. ‘A village I once called home.’ A fresh bout of tears overwhelmed her. When she recovered there was an abyss of sadness in her voice. ‘A home I can never return to. My parents believe I have gone to be successful. The truth would shame them beyond belief. I must bear the responsibility alone. What will happen to me? Will I be executed?’ It was a moment before her meaning became clear. ‘Certainly not,’ Nash told her, his tone forcible. ‘We don’t have the death penalty in England. Besides, no jury would convict you of murder after what you’ve gone through. At the worst you might have to stay in a special